The Sky Will Have Fallen
by Terra7
Summary: I'm finally comfortable now, she tells herself, and sometimes she believes it.


**Title:** The Sky Will Have Fallen  
**Author:** Terra  
**E-Mail:** tayl6430wlu.ca**  
****Summary:** I'm finally comfortable now" she tells herself, and sometimes she believes it.  
**Spoilers/Timeline:** anytime post Double Agent  
**Rating/Classification:** PG, S/V Angst  
**Distribution:** CM, if any one else actually wants it just drop me a line.  
**Feedback:** and constructive criticism would really make my day.  
**Disclaimer:** I'm not delusional :) Not mine, never will be.  
**Notes:** Diana for knowing I'd never written anything before and convincing me that I should try this anyway. Aire and Tammy for the stellar betas. Aire, thanks for making me post and Tammy thanks for the title help.

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_

there was light and then there was darkness  
but there was no line in between  
and asking her heart for guidance  
was like pleading with a machine  
**- Ani DiFranco (Fierce Flawless)**

_

The light awakens her. A flash that leaves her blinking, trying to remove the swimming spots of green and white that mar her vision. Rolling over, she finds him missing, only the indentation in his (her) pillow to suggest that he was ever even there. A survey of the room reveals none of the clothing she remembers removing from him the previous evening, and the scent of coffee wafts in through the open door.

She rolls out of bed and mumbles, "It isn't supposed to be this easy." Her voice is rough with sleep, but she doesn't care.

She finds him in the kitchen, and accepts the offered mug of coffee with a smile that wanes too quickly.

"You ok?"

"I'm fine." Another smile and he seems satisfied.

She studies him as he reads the paper (her paper). _Comfortable_. The word runs through her mind and she decides he looks comfortable here. Here in her house, her kitchen, her bed.

Later that day in the ops centre she will be surprised when he wordlessly places a coffee on her desk. Double cream, no sugar. Just a smile and a hand brushing across her knuckles and he is gone again. She sips it slowly to avoid burning her tongue while she stares at the glare from her computer screen.

---

She doesn't know how it has become their routine. Every morning she wakes alone and every morning he has her coffee waiting. She takes the front page that he has already put aside in favour of the sports section.

After a while she begins to feel almost normal, almost safe. In the back of her mind a voice screams that she will never be normal and that the sky might fall at any moment.

---

Sometimes she stares at her face in photos, in the mirror. Tells herself that she looks the same, that she has not changed. "I'm finally comfortable now" she tells herself, and sometimes she believes it. In their (her) photos they look at ease, all dimples and hand holding. These pictures are what she tells herself they have become. Michael and Sydney.

She often marvels at how easily his first name slips from her. She had always assumed that after... there would be a period of awkwardness. Silences and blushes, wrong words and wrong names. There has been none of that and she frequently reminds herself that it's not supposed to be this easy. "Maybe we're just lucky."

Her favourite photo is one he does not know she has. Given to her by Weiss, it is from before… (She had been on a mission, which accounts for the circles under his eyes and the wrinkles creasing his forehead. He is pictured leaning awkwardly against an anonymous table looking alternately exhausted and ready to burst with nervous energy. The next picture on the roll had been of him staring indignantly at the photographer, apparently upset at having his picture taken.) She doesn't know why she has this photo stored in a box labelled family photos, or why she is afraid to let him know she has it. She does know that he looks uncomfortable, that somehow that is safer than the way she sees him now. Sometimes when he is not around she pulls it out, traces the planes of his face with her fingers then hides it in the dark box in their (her) closet.

---

They move in together without knowing it, and it is not until they decide to buy a couch that she even realizes it is not her apartment anymore.

At the furniture store, the overly perky saleswoman laughs when they are both immediately drawn to the same floor model. "That was almost too simple!" she exclaims, "It's never that easy."

Later when he calls for her and gets no answer he has to think about where she may have gone. The pier and observatory are places she goes to seek comfort. He knows that comfort is the last thing she wants right now, that the light drizzle and mist in the air will have called to her.

He finds her at the track. _Running nowhere_. The light in the sky fades as he watches her, partially because of the hour, partially because the pace of the rain has quickened, a steady pelting that matches the rhythm of her feet.

She finally notices him when his sodden sneakers rasp across the gravel he has been standing on. Her expression is not of apology or contrition, but he hadn't expected that. He is surprised however, to find that she has not conjured up her carefully practised "_**i'mfine**_"smile. Instead she simply stares back at him, wet and exhausted and about ready to drop.

"It's ok to not want this Syd."

"I know. But I do want it."

"Then why do you still use that fake smile on me? Why do you have that picture hidden in our closet?" _Our._

By now he is right in front of her. _How does he always manage to get so close without her knowledge?_ She collapses against his chest and the tears seeping from her eyes are lost in his already drenched shirt.

"Talk to me Syd." And she does.

"It can't be this simple, this easy. Things don't fall into place like this for me."

He nods and she buries her face further. He can't even see her when she continues, her voice muffled and broken. "I'm afraid that if I haven't had to fight for it then it can't be for real. That this is somehow false. That I'll wake up one day and realize that I was stupid to get comfortable. The sky will have fallen and I'll have to deal with the aftermath."

He nods again and stands solid. He waits for her gasping breaths to subside, waits until she raises her head and exposes her puffy, red-rimmed eyes to him. "You think this is easy?"

She tilts her head and tries to smile. "Yeah."

He places a hand at her waist and gently lifts her dripping shirt away from her stomach. Runs two fingers lightly over a scar he has traced before. "People with easy lives aren't covered in these Syd." As she makes a move to speak he places the same two fingers over her lips.

"It's not too easy."

And they stand there until the rain stops, then walk home slowly, drenched and uncomfortable.


End file.
